


Long Nights

by RenaRoo



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 20:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4194369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaRoo/pseuds/RenaRoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you don’t sleep, the nights can be insufferably long unless you have someone to spend them with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Nights

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I have a lot of Church feels and a headcanon that since he didn’t have to sleep, he would read at night, especially on the more boring down times between adventures. So that sort of evolved into “well, what happened on the nights where he didn’t read?” and now this excuse of a fanfic haha.
> 
> Also: Butch Flowers. Because who couldn’t use more Butch Flowers?

Blood Gulch is hot.

They didn’t exactly debrief him in the move. It was mostly a blur at that point, orders and paperwork and the sweet words of a lady named Phyllis, whose words were strangely more and more lost to him every day that he spent at Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha. 

He was told by the other private stationed here, Tucker, to not expect rain or sunsets anymore. And he was told by Captain Flowers to not wander far from base during the long moonless hours they referred to loosely as nights.

There were a lot of things he just accepted at face value, because fuck it. 

He didn’t ask why they were stationed in a hot box canyon, why they were on a planet fighting each other, or why Captain Flowers knew he had trouble sleeping. 

Church sighed and rotated his stiff shoulders. His armor was uncomfortable and fit wrong for some reason, but Captain Flowers had made it clear that at Blue Base they were not permitted to be in anything but their military issued armor outside of their private quarter. 

Again, he didn’t question it. Neither did Tucker, exaggerated complaints about chaffing aside. 

It was two in the morning by their military clock -- probably something related to Earth’s time designations rather than their colonized, unmoving rock of a planet -- and it was Church’s seventh day at Blood Gulch. 

It was also his seventh day without sleep.

He didn’t feel worse for wear, but it was getting... cagey. He didn’t bother anyone save himself. 

Which was why he was taken by such surprise when he was approached by his C.O.

“Captain Flowers?” he asked, hand awkwardly reaching for his gun though it didn’t quite make it.

The man laughed softly, his aqua armor shaking with the volume of it. “Church, Church. You know how I feel about being called Captain.”

“Yeah, well... I still like calling you Captain Flowers,” Church muttered with an awkward shuffle of his feet. “Chain of command and all that.”

Flowers continued laughing, softer but only by a bit. “Ah, _command,”_ he said fondly, like he was aware of a joke that Church couldn’t understand.

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” he muttered in turn.

“Tell me, Leonard--”

“ _Church._... _Please,”_ the younger soldier begged.

“Are you having trouble sleeping again?” Flowers asked softly.

Church blinked. “Yeah. So. I figured that... while I am, why not just... y’know. Keep watch for everyone. Make sure no Reds tried to get us while we’re out.”

Flowers didn’t have much reaction to the idea of their enemy attacking, just a tilt to his head. “That’s well and good, but I like to think that no one would look to attack in the middle of the night.”

“In.... the middle of a war, Sir?”

“We have to keep this all respectable, after all,” he continued, turning toward the base entrance. “Now, I don’t believe in giving orders around Blue Base, but I do strongly make suggestions. And, _Church,_ I strongly suggest you and I spend our time examining the library together to pass the time.”

Church looked across the canyon, seeing nothing in the blinding light of the sun. He hesitated, but ultimately turned to make his way toward the entrance. 

“Yeah, alright. And. Uh. Thank you...Butch.”

* * *

He’s been the de facto leader of Blood Gulch’s Blue Team for a few weeks. The unsettling and mysterious death of Captain Flowers had filled him with... something. Something unsettling, for certain. 

A little bit of guilt, perhaps, but he refused to examine it for more than what it was. Instead he looked only at the facts.

They had a dead captain. They were outnumbered four to two. The Reds were the most boring fucks on the godforsaken planet outside of how boring _his_ life was since it mostly concentrated on keeping an eye on the most boring fucks on the planet.

Glaring through the lens of the sniper rifle, Church grunted. Absolutely _nothing_ was going on. 

It seemed like Captain Flowers wasn’t the only one who thought it was beyond their prerogatives to attack at the mutually agreed upon, bright as an August day, nighttime. Only the robot was active. 

Something itched at the back of Church’s mind when he thought of that comparison, but he just couldn’t allow himself to think of why.

“Hey.”

Church turned on his heels, coming face to face with his fellow space marine. Tucker didn’t even so much as flinch at the sniper rifle aimed right at him, instead taking seat on a rock.

“I could’ve shot you!” Church snapped.

“Noted,” Tucker responded. “Anything happening?”

“No,” Church snapped back. He turned his sights back on Red Base. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d do some recon.”

“You’re the only one awake in the whole canyon, so you thought that’d be a perfect time to get information on our enemies. Who are also asleep,” Tucker recited with a whistle. “Genius, oh leader.”

“Hey, did you want to lead?” Church snapped back. “No. So now I’m responsible for your lazy ass.”

“No need for descriptions of this ass,” Tucker said back, a little too quick. “This ass already has one: _fiiiiiine.”_

“Oh my god,” Church moaned. He looked back over his shoulder. “Hey, Tucker, why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I don’t know. Why aren’t you?”

Church shrugged easily enough. “I don’t sleep much. I’m too busy carrying this team.”

“Yeah right,” Tucker snorted. “That’s why there’s a stack of books here. Smut books _really_ help you carry us to victory.”

“Whatever, why don’t you go back to bed? You’re annoying me,” Church grouched. 

“Nah, I think I’ll just spend time with you,” Tucker replied, leaning back into the rock. “You didn’t deny it was smut, by the way.”

“... _dammit.”_

* * *

Even the _thought_ of sleeping hadn’t come to his mind since the incident with the tank. Why would it? He didn’t need sleep because he was a ghost. End of story.

But the nights were still... something. 

He’d been through every book in Flowers’ personal library by that point and it meant that he needed to either reread books -- a complete drag -- or fill his long, bright nights with something other than reading. 

He stuck mostly to complaining.

At least, he had until O’Malley had left his mark on their own rookie, in more ways than one. 

He looked up from the monitor to see Caboose’s standard issue blue armor before him. The rookie was shifting uncomfortably at the door of Church’s own quarters.

The leader sighed.

“Nightmares again?” he asked.

“Um. Well,” Caboose muttered, tapping fingers against each other. “It was the scary man.”

“Yeah, that’s understandable,” Church sighed, getting up and heading to his bookshelf. “I don’t even know why you think this helps.”

“It _does_ help,” Caboose insisted, crawling into Church’s own unused bunk. “The words are big sometimes, but...”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, pulling up a chair to the bed. “Just remember the rules: only ask me what a word means once every sentence.”

“Right,” Caboose nodded.

Church picked up where he left off last. 

* * *

It shouldn’t have been so surprising to him, the facts were all simple enough to connect, but it was always a bit of a wonder what Church decided to question and what he blindly accepted. 

He reasoned that it made the bizarre circumstances they all survived through simpler but... he just wasn’t so sure.

Still, he should have not walked into the rec room completely surprised to learn that Tex didn’t exactly sleep either.

They were both ghosts.

“Hard to get used to, huh?” he asked, kicking back in a chair.

Tex just stared at him, cleaning her weapons. 

“Not sleeping, I mean,” he pressed.

She cocked her head at him, but then returned to maintenance. “No, there was no adjustment,” she said keenly, though it wasn’t like she was disinterested in the conversation. 

Church cocked his head to the side. “What does that mean?”

His ex released a long, aggravated sigh and looked back at him. “Church,” she said, almost exasperated, “what do you even remember?”

He blinked, not really processing the question. “What?”

“What. Do. You. Remember?” she asked.

“Yeah, about what?”

“About _us_ ,” she continued, almost pleadingly. 

He looked at her, feeling... not sweaty. Ghosts don’t get sweaty. But anxious. Like... they were balancing together on the brink of something... and Tex was trying _very_ hard to push him off.

“That I love you,” he said honestly. “That we’re supposed to be together.”

She didn’t so much as react to that. She just stared holes into him. She loaded her gun without looking, Church flinched.

“Why did you hurt yourself so bad?” she asked, tired and weary.

“What does _that_ mean? I swear to god,” he mumbled, rubbing at his helmet. “Why don’t you make any sense?” 

“It doesn’t mean anything,” she grunted, returning to the table covered in equipment. “I guess some things are better off forgotten. Don’t think too hard about it.” She reached for her rifle. “Let’s just play the quiet game until everyone else wakes up.”

Church blinked. “Yeah. Okay.”

The conversation was making his head hurt anyway. 

* * *

Tex was gone. Then Tucker. Then Caboose. Then him.

“Are you sure this is the right assignment?” he had asked. “There’s not even a Red Base here.”

He never got a full answer.

The fort was in complete disrepair. He didn’t have anyone to bully into fixing it. So it stayed that way.

There were still no nights on the pitiful planet, but at least he wasn’t in the blistering heat of Blood Gulch or the brutal cold of Sidewinder. He was just...

Alone. 

Church was very alone at nights. It’s what he always wanted. 

No one was around to hurt him, though he wasn’t sure why that was so oddly comforting. 

He wasn’t around anyone to hurt _them_ , though he wasn’t sure why that was comforting either. 

There was just existence and hours after hours. 

He was alone. It was... great. 

Even if it wasn’t. 

* * *

The unit flickers. Epsilon blinks awake from his temporary hibernation. Just enough to reload all old data. Just enough time to reprocess all his memories.

Well. All of Alpha’s memories.

In the vastness of numbers and darkness and endless upon endless time, Epsilon curls into himself, hugs his knees, and wonders what it would be like to spend a night dreaming. 

The hum of thought vibrates through his being. 

Carolina blinks her eyes, awake, and turns over from the patch of dirt she’s been using as a bed. She looks into the canopy -- it seems like like all there is on this planet is space and growth. There’s not much living that can move left on its war torn soil.

“Hey, sorry,” Epsilon whispers, appearing over her shoulder, still sitting with his knees pressed into his chest. “I didn’t mean to wake you up. I was just... coming online.”

“It’s okay,” she says, soft and genuine. “I wasn’t really sleeping.” Her green eyes aren’t focused on much of anything. “It’s hard to sleep when you’re not on.”

“Oh yeah?” Epsilon says, a little surprised.

“Yeah,” Carolina returns, finger tapping against her own armor. “When you’re not on, I can dream. Not exactly my favorite thing.”

There are whispers through his being, but Epsilon ignores them for now. “I didn’t know you’ve had nightmares since we’d been together.”

“I don’t,” his sister returns, eyes sliding closed. “I just feel worse being reminded by what I wish _had_ been, too.”

“Never thought of it that way,” he admits. Then, softly, “Hey... Carolina... do you mind if... I talk to you? I don’t mind if you go to sleep. I just... don’t like spending my nights alone anymore.”

“Of course, Epsilon,” she says. “It’d be my pleasure.”


End file.
